“So Trevor sent you, huh?”
Kneeling before his dick and unzipping his pants, I answered, “Sure did.” Grant wasn’t giving it to me, so I had to take his dick. Easing out the most beautiful dick I’d seen in my life, I gave him a mini dick massage, then placed my juicy lips over his bulging head.
Grant’s thick, long, smooth dick throbbed in my mouth. “Stand up for a minute,” I said, squeezing his ass. I leaned my head back, then made him fuck me good in my mouth.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” he moaned as precum oozed down my throat.
His was the sweetest vanilla-cream cum I’d ever tasted in my life. I wanted him to shoot a heavy load in my mouth for breakfast, but I had to feel him inside me before he released the big one.
He unbuckled his pants. I pulled them down to his ankles, helping him undress while sucking his head and massaging his nuts. Everything about this man was to die for.
Slowly, I eased his dick out of my mouth, holding him with my hand. “Don’t move,” I said, picking up my purse and pulling out a Magnum XL. Putting the condom on the tip of my tongue, I sucked the tip, kissed his dick, and rolled the latex down his shaft, all the way to his nuts.
“Now, that’s quite impressive,” he said.
I slid my pants over my ass, then said, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” I raised my right leg and rested it in his left hand, then lifted my left leg and rested it in his right hand.
His strong arms then hugged my waist. Locking my ankles behind his back, I rolled my sweet pussy Red Velvet style up and all the way down his dick, making sure he felt my ass squeeze his nuts on the way up and my pussy tighten around his dick all the way down. He held me tight about my waist until he lowered himself to the sofa and sat me on top of him.
“What the hell. I’m in it now,” he said. “Ride this dick, baby.”
“Uh,” I moaned. “Uh, uh, uh, uh, uhhh. Hell, yes.” Exhaling, I started singing to him. “Cum for me, Daddy.”
I was grinding my big, sweet behind so hard, my booty damn near disappeared inside his ass. My middle finger circled my clit. His face tightened, his eyes closed, and his mouth opened. “Oh yeah, Daddy,” I cried and went for it. Passionately, I pressed my mouth against his and kissed him Red Velvet style, inserting my tongue in his mouth, softly sucking his tongue, then easing my tongue back into his mouth. I kissed him the same way he came inside of me—nice and slow.
“Aw, fuck. Who are you again?” he asked, holding my wet ass in the palms of his hands.
Seductively, I winked, then whispered in his ear, “I’m Red Velvet, but you can call me Honey.”
CHAPTER 6
Honey
Gazing out the kitchen patio window, I decided that today seemed like yesterday. But it wasn’t. I realized another day had gone by and there were a few differences. Today I removed a bag of diced potatoes from the freezer, selected a package of chicken apple sausages, and placed a loaf of wheat bread next to the toaster. A dozen brown eggs—a standard breakfast item—were in a large, clear bowl next to the salt and pepper.
I wondered what ingredients of life created the greatest love of all. I felt unjustifiably abandoned and ostracized by Grant. This shit wasn’t right. One day my life seemed perfect; I’d finally met a decent man that I actually enjoyed spending time with. Wasn’t it out of love that the Creator took a rib from a man and gave it to a woman? Well, right about now I could rip through Grant’s abs, snatch out one of his ribs, and beat him over the head with it.
Relentless, I texted him again: Hi, baby. I miss you.
I tried analyzing the anger that had suddenly brought me to tears again this morning. I jabbed my index fingers into my temples to suppress the painful throbbing that was exacerbating my frustrations. “I’m ready,” I whispered, placing the chicken apple sausages in the skillet before spreading the potatoes on a cookie sheet and placing them in the oven. “I’m ready to settle down.”
Could Grant invest so much time into our relationship, then say, “I love you,” and not mean it? “Nah, I don’t think so. He still loves me. He just needs a little more time to come to that realization,” I said aloud. Closing my eyes, I sniffed the long-stemmed white roses centered on my island. The scent reminded me of Grant’s favorite Sean John cologne, Unforgivable.
I placed the cooked sausages in a Pyrex dish, then covered them with the glass lid.
Was true love solidified by sex, material possessions, or unconditional acceptance by the beholder? Did love beget happiness? When and how did I fall in love? Out of love? How could love or the lack thereof fester into a hate so volatile the burning sensation could emotionally cremate human beings with suicidal or homicidal thoughts? And how could a deranged person be resuscitated within seconds by one compassionate kiss on the lips? I longed for Grant to kiss my neck, right behind my ear, hold me in his strong arms, and slide his big, thick chocolate dick deep inside my wet, creamy pussy.
I turned off the oven, leaving the potatoes inside.
Struggling to maintain my sanity, I picked up a champagne bottle, pressed the opening against my mouth, leaned my head back, then took a huge gulp. I filled a flute to the rim with champagne, sipped, picked up my phone, then somberly made my way to my bedroom. My girls could scramble, fry, poach, or boil their own eggs this morning. I needed time alone to let go of the pain that was killing me slowly with the nonstop dialogue racing in my head.
“Breakfast is ready,” I shouted from the foyer and up the stairs before quietly closing my bedroom door. Turning on the flat-screen television mounted on the wall across from my bed, I reclined on the white suede chaise beside the sliding glass door leading to my patio, forcing back my tears.
“Dammit, Lace! Not again today,” I scolded myself.
My head rested against the back of the chaise. I closed my eyes. I was no longer that teenage girl with blossoming breasts that my mother envied or the innocent virgin adolescent that my father disowned. I was a thirty-year-old woman who’d only had one person tell me, “I love you.” I was a woman who couldn’t bring her only sister back from her grave or win back the heart of the only man she’d ever loved.
Sitting up, I texted Grant again. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Please speak to me. I need you.
Tossing my iPhone onto the floor, I curled my fingers into fists, then knelt beside my chaise, crying profusely into the cushion. “Out of the billions of people in the world, why can’t I find one somebody to love me? My God, is that too much to ask for? Is it? Huh? You’ve given me pain, misery, disappointment, abusive husbands, dysfunctional parents, and you can’t give me one, not one, somebody who truly loves me? Why?”
Sniffling, I stood in front of the freestanding mirror, staring at my tattered reflection through my sad green eyes. My purple lace boxer panties barely covered my ass. My hair was gathered into an uncombed ponytail. My breasts sat high and firm. My nipples hardened. Goose bumps invaded my pale skin. Despite the way I appeared at the moment, I knew I was gorgeous. Maybe this time my good looks had gotten me into a situation that my heart couldn’t get me out of.
“Stop taking Grant’s rejection personally,” I said aloud, trying to convince myself. “I am good enough for him. Our breakup isn’t about me.”
I had never had a positive role model in my life, and my inability to trust men had carved permanent scars into my psyche, leaving me fucked up…in the head. I’d done the unspeakable. A voice whispered in my ear, “Hush, you’re a good woman.”
Clinging to the hope that we’d get back together, I wanted Grant to love me, yet somehow a part of me felt unworthy of his love. Of any man’s love. If Grant could see me from the inside out, he’d know my truth. I was afraid to become completely vulnerable. What if I told him the whole truth